A Good Thing
by heartumbles
Summary: There was a lot one could say, they both realized, by saying the wrong thing.


"Your dads are kind of weird, though."

It started with that comment, Athena's timid admission to Apollo in the midst of their playdate. They occupied the living room as usual, with Trucy cooing out partial words and toddling her way through their toys. Legos collided in her wake as her brother and his guest spoke in hushed tones. Well, somewhat hushed. Phoenix, taking on babysitting duty yet again, could hear the children well enough from the kitchen.

And it wasn't that he _meant_ to listen in on the conversation, just that he did. He worked best with the kids' chatter serving as a backdrop, his case files sprinkled on the counter before him. A cup of coffee, maybe a bit of music streaming from the radio, and he was usually too wrapped up in his own thoughts to pay much attention. But Athena's comment seemed to come out of nowhere, and it sparked the interest of father and son alike.

Apollo made a small noise. "Weird?"

"Only kinda."

"Like how?" He sounded confused rather than offended. Anyone other than Athena, a child of two mothers herself, and perhaps he would've been.

"They use last names all the time," she explained. "Even Mommy and Mama Aura have nicknames for each other, and they're weirder. Like, a lot weirder."

Apollo didn't respond, pausing instead as yet another tower of Legos toppled under Trucy's wrath. Then he admitted, his tone unsure, "I guess their last names are sorta like nicknames."

Phoenix couldn't help but laugh. Well. Maybe it was odd that he and Miles still answered to calls of Wright and Edgeworth after nearly a year—an "official" year, as Maya dubbed it—together under one roof. An official year beyond Miles' regular visits and subsequent sleepovers that always ended with Apollo questioning if _tonight_ was the night the prosecutor stayed for good. An official year beyond the tentative dates, the timid touches that blossomed into something more.

And even in a private sphere, even with the nature of their relationship steadily changing, they couldn't kick the old habit entirely. So the last names, although increasingly replaced with an affectionate "Miles" or "Phoenix" here and there, stayed. The frequency with which he and Miles used them, however, hadn't crossed Phoenix's mind until now.

He looked towards the living room as Athena eagerly started up again. "Well, they're married too, right? So they should have the same last name."

"Huh?"

"You know, like my moms. They got married last month, remember?"

"Yeah, we got pictures."

"So maybe your dads will too."

"Dunno."

"They don't want to?"

And it was strange, hearing the pair discuss marriage and romantic entanglements, as if such ideas were typical eight year-old concerns. It was stranger, still, to hear them decide that if wedding plans were to be made, then it was their responsibility to put everything together. Strange for Athena to declare Apollo the best man, Trucy the flower girl, and herself the bridesmaid.

"Groomsmaid," Apollo corrected. "You need a bride for a bridesmaid."

"Oh yeah."

All of it, strange, but endearing in a way that had Phoenix burying his smile in the palm of his hand and shaking his head. "Kids."

"You shouldn't eavesdrop, you know."

He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of Miles' voice, watching the man slip out of his coat and shake off the cold that had followed him inside. Phoenix was so lost in the children's discussion, he hadn't even heard the backdoor open. He didn't answer right away, instead giving Miles a long look.

Much had changed in this year alone. Miles was always a creature of confidence, to some degree, but the way he carried himself now had never been so sure. He'd never looked so at ease with himself, with the world, in spite of the smaller worries that plagued his life. Much of this change, Phoenix was sure, was due to the resolution of the DL-6 case nearly two years back. (Had it really been that long since that whole mess?) More of it, perhaps, due to Miles' steady climb up the professional ladder. He was busier, yes, and more tired these days. But happier.

It showed in his little gestures, like the light peck he placed on Phoenix's cheek the moment he set his coat and briefcase on the counter.

"I'm not eavesdropping," Phoenix said, shuffling his papers. "I'm just. Catching bits and pieces."

"That's the exact definition of eavesdropping."

"It's kind of cute, actually. How much you hear?"

"Something about the Juniper girl making the groomsmaid dress, I believe." As wry as he sounded, there was a hint of amusement in Miles' expression. Whatever additional comment he had on the tip of his tongue was cut off when Athena and Apollo charged into the kitchen all bounces and giggles. Trucy struggled to keep up with her wobbly steps.

Apollo latched onto Phoenix's waist, beaming up at him and earning a laugh in response. "Hey, Dad!"

"What, kiddo?"

"Can we throw you a wedding?"

"Oh, a wedding huh?"

"Yeah."

"Mm, I don't know. What do you think?" He playfully aimed the last bit at Miles, who scooped up Trucy as he thought.

"Well, there's no need for rush, is there?"

"Then when," Athena asked, hanging close to his heels.

"Why ruin a good thing?"

And something could be said for Athena's initial persistence with the issue, for the expectant stares she and Apollo were shooting towards each man, or even for the way that Miles went on to rummage in the fridge while Trucy fiddled with his hair. Like what he just said made all the sense in the world, and it was just another average occurrence that blended in with all the rest. Like there was nothing more to the matter than a simple implied 'not now.'

But it was the response itself, not the nonchalant way Miles uttered it, that struck a nerve in Phoenix.

Phoenix narrowed his eyes, all signs of amusement fading. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

His tone alone made something stir in the air, causing the whole room to fall silent. Miles matched the brunette's gaze, uncertain but suddenly just as peeved for a reason he couldn't explain. Athena, immediately sensing the shift in Phoenix's voice, soon found herself preoccupied with the cowlick in Trucy's hair. Apollo took one look at his fathers' faces, their tense jaws, before slowly unlatching himself from Phoenix and whispering, "Uh-oh."

"I merely meant…" Miles opened his mouth to speak, trailing off as the words died in his throat. Then he knit his brows together and frowned. "I don't think this conversation is appropriate to have in front of Apollo and his friend."

"Apollo, Athena, go play. Now."

"Time to go." Apollo snatched Athena's hand and dragged her out of the kitchen just as quickly as they'd rushed in.

(_"But I wanna—"_

"_Nope."_)

And the following silence thickened. There was a moment where the men just eyed each other, waiting.

Phoenix was the first to speak, rising from his seat. "_Ruin_ a good thing?"

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

Miles didn't seem to be too sure, it was clear on his face, and that made matters worse. He was slow with his reply, shifting Trucy further up against his hip as she continued to squirm around in his grip. She was oblivious to the tension between her fathers, still running fingers through gray strands of hair and pushing it out of place. Any other time, and it would have been humorous. Yet Miles ignored her attempt at preening, watching Phoenix carefully. "Don't you think you're getting a little too worked up?"

"Because it obviously doesn't matter."

He matched the edge in Phoenix's voice. "Don't put words in my mouth."

"I'm not, I just—"

"And you seem _awfully_ upset over a topic you've never brought up until just now."

The last two words were punctuated, and it was Phoenix's turn to fall silent. He could feel his face heating up as he stammered, "That's… I'm not—"

He stopped.

Not what? He couldn't argue the point. He was fully aware of that fact. It _hadn't_ crossed his mind until now, not for more than a fleeting moment, not until the kids mentioned it with a growing sense of seriousness he realized he lacked with this issue. Marriage. Him. Miles. He'd thought about it, sure but…

But what, exactly?

And what was worse, Miles watched him with that knowing gaze, not letting up for a second. It was only when they both heard a slight bump from outside the kitchen, followed by Apollo's not so quiet "Shush!" and Athena's whisper of "Sorry…" that they eased down a bit.

"We shouldn't… We shouldn't have this conversation now," Phoenix finally admitted, avoiding Miles' eye and stacking his papers together.

Miles didn't miss a beat. "No, we shouldn't."

And Phoenix frowned, expecting a different response but unsurprised by it all the same. He didn't even watch as the man left with Trucy in tow, instead mumbling a bitter, "Fine."

"_Fine_."

* * *

For Miles, it wasn't a matter of affection, but propriety. There was a time and place for everything, matters of the heart included, and he saw no point in needlessly stepping beyond those boundaries when the context wasn't right. Or rather, when he found himself in uncharted waters. That was how people made spectacles of themselves. That was how feelings got hurt. That was how misunderstandings took place.

And _surely_ this was all one big misunderstanding. Of what, he wasn't entirely sure, but a blunder had been made. This was different from refusing to hold hands in public (though Phoenix occasionally locked arms with him anyway). It was different from denying the brunette a proper kiss when preoccupied (though Phoenix found small ways to sneak them in when he least expected it). It was different from substituting an "I love you" with a teasing "How sentimental." Phoenix, as he did with all things, took even that in stride. Distance. Moderation. Intimacy where Miles deemed acceptable, where he felt comfortable—which often meant in private, away from the public eye. It made their relationship slow going, but it was simple.

Simple was easy. Simple was familiar.

But simple, Miles should've known by now, was never Phoenix's forte.

Which was probably why Miles found himself cooped up in his study an hour after the fact, repeatedly going over that scene in the kitchen with the same concentration he would dedicate to a newly assigned case. Each detail. Every word. _Ruin a good thing._

What _had_ he meant?

There'd been no malicious intent behind his words. He hadn't even realized what he'd said, not right away. It was just a thought that popped into his head, a thought he happened to blurt out. A thought he hadn't realized would offend until he heard the almost spiteful tone in Phoenix's voice.

"_What's _that_ supposed to mean?"_

Miles could have been a little less tactless. Perhaps. He would own up to that much. But…was it not a logical response, given their current situation? They were in a good place, no? So should Phoenix have gotten so upset? Or was there something Miles was missing?

"Papa. Up."

Trucy roused the man from his thoughts, if only for a moment. He peered down at the toddler clutching at his pant leg. He normally didn't allow the kids in the study, but she had been quite entertained by the Pink Samurai figurine on his desk the moment he'd carried her in. She'd been playing with it beside his chair ever since, only now losing interest and abandoning it at her feet.

She stretched her hands up, flashing a dimpled smile. "Me up."

"Yes, yes, up. Come here." He hoisted her into his lap and leaned back in his chair as his daughter took up one of the pens on his desk and started clicking it. He couldn't help but smile, patting the two year-old's head. "Better?"

"Mmuh," she merely mumbled, nibbling on the cap.

Trucy. His daughter. And Apollo, his son. The labels were still something he was getting used to, even after more than a year tied to this family. The lot of them were still getting used to it, to be honest. Miles was there for Phoenix throughout the adoption process when Trucy first came into the picture last year, and she had taken to Miles quickly enough. It took months for Apollo to finally call him Miles at all, and even longer for him to drop the 'Mr.' preceding it. And Miles hadn't even realized until Phoenix pointed it out that Athena referred to him as Apollo and Trucy's father as well. It warmed him. They were more or less a family unit, conventional or not, and the permanence the whole situation suggested had to count for something.

He and Phoenix were raising children together. They had a house together. Collective funds that they were still learning to coordinate. So why not marriage?

_I suppose we ought to…_

But he didn't want to make such a serious decision, a lifelong decision at best, simply because he 'ought' to. If he did, he wanted it to be a natural progression, not some obligation. And he'd never really cared much for the idea of marriage to begin with. The ceremony itself, the old-fashioned expectations and pressures it put on the people involved, the belief that it somehow made long-standing relationships more valid, the whole religious debate that came hand in hand…

It wasn't a necessity, not in general and certainly not for him and Phoenix. Not to mention, the whole thing seemed like a hassle. They were more than coupled at this point, so what did a pair of rings and a government issued paper really matter in the end? Why bother with the formalities if they were functioning just fine? Were they not official enough? Did Phoenix think otherwise, somehow? And why did it take two children bringing it up for him to consider all this in the first place?

"Mr. Edgeworth?"

He looked up at the sound of Athena's voice. She was timidly poking her head inside the study, though a small smile graced her features.

Miles softened at the sight, gesturing her towards his desk. "Yes, Athena?"

"Simon asked me to borrow a book from you, but I forget which one."

"Ah, the Gladwell novel?"

"I think so."

He had to carry Trucy, who whined when he gently tugged the pen from her mouth before moving to search his bookcase. He plucked the white paperback, its edges worn, from the surrounding psychology books and handed it to Athena. "You tell him to take care of that, now."

"I will." She clutched the book to her chest, looking down at her feet. Then she glanced back up, opening her mouth as if she had something else to say but wasn't sure how to say it. She still hadn't gotten up the nerve to speak her mind when they heard the knock at the door.

Phoenix stood in the doorway. The car keys he held in his other hand jingled as he pushed the door open to peer inside. The look on his face when he met Miles' gaze was almost sheepish. "Gonna drop Athena back home before it gets late. Then Apollo and I are heading to the store on our way back, so…"

Miles didn't know what to make of the strain in the man's voice, or the way Athena clutched the book even tighter and kept her mouth firmly closed. "Okay."

"Did you…want anything?"

"I… No."

"Okay."

It shouldn't have been so tense or awkward, and Miles shouldn't have felt so irrevocably at fault. But it was, and he did. Phoenix stood in the doorway for a moment longer, seeming at a loss, before sighing and reaching his hand in Athena's direction. "C'mon kiddo, let's get you home."

She looked to Phoenix then to Miles, still gripping the book tightly. "Thank you, Mr. Edgeworth."

"Of course, dear."

"And…sorry. For earlier."

No, he definitely didn't like how small she sounded right then. "You've no need to be sorry, I promise you."

She searched his face, soon pleased with whatever it was she saw there and pleased by the assurance that rang in his voice.

He grinned back, nodding towards Phoenix. "Now, go on."

And as they left, Athena with a bit more of her usual bounce to her step, Miles tried not to focus too much on the careful way Phoenix avoided his gaze on the way out.

No, this was no simple matter at all.

* * *

"Yullo, Earth to Nick."

"Hm?"

Maya leaned forward and gently smacked the man's cheek, cocking her head to the side. "Are you zoning out on me already? Probably didn't even hear a word I said, did you?"

"What now?"

"I said 'Good morning~', and you just stood there staring at me like I sprouted a second nose or something."

Oh. Right. That was a little weird.

A couple days had passed since the incident—if he could really consider it an incident in the first place—and in those two days, Phoenix hadn't been entirely able to keep his thoughts from drifting back. He wasn't moping, per se, but he wasn't his usual chipper self either. Every so often, it was the same thought circling through his head, distracting him from his tasks around the house: _Ruin a good thing._ He'd been lost in those words yet again when he heard the doorbell ring and went to answer it, and he'd merely stared down at Maya when she greeted him.

She adjusted her duffel bag when he still didn't respond and slipped past him, squinting at his face. "Nick, you alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just…thinking."

"Oh?"

He didn't reply, merely closed the door. There was a sudden squeal of excitement that followed, leaking into the hall from behind. The source, of course, was Trucy. She'd caught a glimpse of Maya from her nest of toys in the living room, barreling her way towards the woman's legs with a stuffed rhino in hand.

Maya squealed back, setting her bag on the floor and bending down in time to catch the giggling child in her arms. She picked her up and gave her a light squeeze. "There she is, my favorite niece! Oh, she's getting so big. Almost as big as Pearly."

Phoenix smiled, momentarily snapping himself out of his funk. "You sure you're alright with watching Trucy for the day?"

Maya pressed smooches against Trucy's cheeks before responding, "I've babysat a million times before."

"Yeah, but we're always dumping the kids on you."

She slipped off her shoes and shook Trucy's probing hands out of her top bun. "Nick, it's fine. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here. Besides, you're not leaving to wrap things up with your client right away, are you?"

"Not for another hour, no."

"See, there you go. We can see Daddy off properly and wish him luck, right Trucy?"

"G'lucky!"

He laughed at the two. "I guess."

No, he wasn't really worried about Maya babysitting, especially since she made a point of visiting at least twice every few weeks. She usually took over when both he and Miles were out dealing with casework. Sometimes she'd even bring Pearl, if her aunt also needed a nanny for the day. And the kids loved having Maya over, probably because she had child-like qualities herself. Today it would just be her and Trucy, with Apollo at school and Miles at work. She was already heading into the living room to make herself comfortable.

Phoenix grabbed her duffel bag—filled additional toys and snack foods, he was sure—and followed her. "Maya, can I ask you something weird?"

"How weird?"

"What would you think if Miles and I got married?"

The phrasing may have been a mistake, because her head whipped around and her mouth formed a perfect O before he could elaborate. There was an excited glint in her eyes. "Wait! Did he propose?! When? Where? How?"

"No, nothing like—"

"Did _you _propose!? Are you gonna? Tell me, tell me, tel—mmgh."

He slapped a hand over her mouth, eliciting a giggle from Trucy. Phoenix rolled his eyes. "No one proposed, God."

"Wuh nugh?"

"What?"

Maya shook his hand away, setting Trucy down on the couch. "I said, why _not_?"

"Because. We're, uh…"

He wasn't really sure how to explain it, because he wasn't even sure if he and Miles were actually fighting or not, or if this was just a passing disagreement they were failing to discuss. No, passing disagreements wouldn't color the rest of their conversations cold. Phoenix still found himself snippy whenever speaking with his partner, and instead of addressing it Miles simply gave him the silent treatment in response. Even this morning, he had been awfully quick with leaving to drop Apollo off at school before heading to work. Not so much as the usual goodbye. Phoenix regretted his own part in this ordeal as much as he resented Miles' silence.

Phoenix set Maya's bag on the floor and rubbed the back of his neck. "I need an outsider's opinion on this, alright. Say someone mentioned you and your partner getting married. Then your partner says something about not wanting to 'ruin a good thing.' How would you take that?"

"Huh."

"Sounds weird, right?"

"Well… Hm." She turned to face Trucy, who was now bouncing up and down on the couch, bumping her rhino's nose against Maya's arm. Maya absently took the girl's free hand in her own, her expression thoughtful. "Maybe he didn't mean it that way."

"Well, what else would you take that to mean?"

"I mean, I guess he could've phrased it better." She examined his face when he heaved a deep breath. "Nick, did you _want_ to get married?"

"Well, yeah. I mean…"

That was the question, wasn't it? He kept going back to every moment where the thought had crossed his mind. He thought back to each moment sprinkled throughout these past two days, moments where the thought stuck with him more prominently. Marriage, a union of love. He loved Miles. That was a fact. Miles loved him. He liked to believe that was also a fact. People got married when they loved each other. Or they held some kind of official civil union, some kind of acknowledgment. Didn't that, then, make the answer clear enough?

Maya sighed when he didn't respond. "If you're not even sure yourself, then how can you get angry at him?"

"I'm not. I mean, I am, but… We're already together, we're already doing this…whatever this is. This thing. We have been for a while, so it makes sense doesn't it?"

"Then pop the question yourself, if that's what you want."

"Well, not after all this. That'll just add pressure. We're barely even talking now."

"Nick."

He grimaced at the disapproval in her voice. "I know, I know. I just don't know how to bring it up again. I'm ticked off."

"Just be straight with him about it."

Easier said than done. Phoenix hadn't realized until now that, on some level, he had just assumed this whole relationship would eventually lead to marriage. He'd never voiced it, never dropped any hints towards it, but he'd felt that would be the final step their relationship took. And he hadn't realized until now that he and Miles weren't exactly on the same page. Had they ever been? He wasn't sure if Miles even _wanted_ to be on the same page, really. Not after that statement. As if the mere thought of being married to Phoenix would damage their relationship, somehow. That didn't make any sense.

Maya seemed to understand Phoenix's revelation, letting him think. She wiggled Trucy's arm, grinning at the girl's delight, before another glint entered her eye. "You know what you two need? A romantic vacation."

Phoenix arched a brow. "Vacation?"

"Why not? It's almost New Years, so it's perfect. When's the last time you two were alone, without the kids. _Not_ working." Her grin broadened when he opened his mouth then promptly closed it, unable to come up with a ready response. "See. The ideal makeup tactic. A romantic getaway, beautiful sights, maybe fancy dinners and movies. Go all out."

"Go...where?"

"Anywhere. A fancy hotel, a beach, another country. Oh! Did I ever tell you about this ski resort Mia and I went to once one Christmas?"

"Skiing in Los Angeles, Maya?"

"Shush! It's not in L.A., but it _is_ an official, in-state ski resort. They have mountain paths and snow and pretty scenery—I'm sure you and Edgeworth would like it. And the food's great, of course. You can rent your own little cabin and hang out for a few days. Meet the locals, snuggle up on the couch, bust out your romantic flare—"

He was still having a hard time wrapping his head around the idea, and an even harder time keeping up with Maya's enthusiastic rambling, but he decided to humor her. "And where is this mystical resort, pray tell?"

"You're gonna get a kick out of this—_Wright_wood."

He blinked. "Maya."

"Hand to God. Wrightwood, California. Google it."

He gave a laugh of disbelief. "Maya."

"It's got your name in it, okay. That's a sign that it's perfect, so if you don't make reservations, I'll do it for you."

He shook his head. "No, no, I'll check it out if it's as awesome as you say."

"Of course it is," she said with a huff and a wink. "And you two better enjoy yourselves and makeup, you hear me? I don't want to hear any more of this you two not talking to each other nonsense."

The conversation had taken a weird turn, as was expected when it came to Maya, but he appreciated it all the same. Maybe a vacation wasn't a half bad idea…if it didn't turn too awkward beforehand. "Taking relationship advice from you, of all people."

"Hey, you asked _me_."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll check it out a little later today. But I should get going." He leaned down to kiss Trucy's forehead, and then gave his friend a grateful pat on the shoulder. "Thanks, Maya."

"Always to your rescue, Nick."

* * *

He didn't know what had sparked Phoenix's suggestion for an impromptu trip to the mountains—just the two of them, a precious week without work or the kids, coupled with the vaguely alluring promise of snowy bliss spent completely at their leisure. All he knew for sure was that the man was adamant that they go before the New Year set in two weeks from now, and that they utilized their downtime.

"And do what, exactly?" Miles had asked.

"You know. Stuff."

"Stuff," he repeated.

"_Romantic_ stuff."

"Well, that clears it right up, doesn't it?"

"Just humor me, Edgeworth."

He couldn't say the man wasn't determined. He'd looked at Miles with an unwavering spark in his eyes as if he was sure of nothing _but_ Miles' agreement. Mountain High Ski Resort, just outside Wrightwood, California. The irony of the city's name, at the very least, was enough to bring an exasperated grin to Miles' lips. "I suppose it doesn't sound completely awful."

"So next Friday works?"

"I'll have to rearrange and cancel a few meetings, but yes."

His agreement, at the time, had made sense. It meant progress. Maybe Phoenix wasn't still upset with him. Or maybe he was and wanted to play nice anyway. They could forget about it, let the whole thing pass. But the more Miles thought about it in the days that followed, the more anxious he became.

_It's still about the marriage thing._

No, it wouldn't be.

_What if it is?_

If it was, he'd…what? He couldn't very well cancel, especially not after he'd asked Gumshoe to make sure his schedule was clear for the next two weeks. Especially not after Maya had agreed to take on childcare duty while the couple was away; and most certainly not after Apollo had persuaded his fathers to let Klavier, Clay, Juniper and Athena join him in a week long slumber party. ("We'll behave, promise!")

Phoenix had already rented a cabin and was suggesting different vacations activities left and right. Hiking. Snowboarding. Tubing. All things that sounded like effort. And cold.

"They have golf too. You're old. You like golf, right?"

"Humorous, Wright."

But even as they joked and packed and prepared, Miles couldn't shake the suspicion that Phoenix may have had ulterior motives for this trip. He didn't want to say the word, but it ran through his mind repeatedly as he sorted through his clothes: Proposal.

These were the kinds of trips people planned when they made marriage proposals, weren't they? Phoenix wouldn't purposefully plan such a trip after this whole incident. Would he?

_You're overreacting._

So he kept telling himself.

There was a time where things weren't so complicated, where the cards fell as they did, and neither Miles nor Phoenix worried as much. Their earlier stages, before they'd started feeling out their relationship and deemed it a new constant in their lives. Yet now they were treading on shaky ground, and Miles wasn't sure if this trip would further disturb that balance or not.

He was sure they'd have to address the...the marriage issue at some point. And he knew, if he was half the respectable man he claimed to be, he'd have to apologize. But that meant explaining why he wasn't fond of the very notion of marriage itself—not necessarily marriage with Phoenix—and he still wasn't sure how to go about doing that without making a bigger mess of things.

_Why fix what isn't broken?_

That dilemma plagued his mind for most of the car ride to Wrightwood the following Friday. Phoenix drove while Miles sat slightly reclined in the passenger's seat, trying to distract himself with one of the books he'd packed. He'd been reading over the same sentence for a fifth time when Phoenix glanced over and said, "You seem quiet."

"No more than usual," Miles replied, not looking up from the page.

"Aw, perk up. You said you were excited."

"I said nothing of the sort."

"Party pooper."

He scowled at the response, fumbling with a corner of the page. "What did you have planned once we got settled?"

"I figured we could walk around town and just see what they have. There's some hiking trails, but we can check those out anytime. There are wineries, gift shops, a mall." He noticed the wary look on Miles' face at the mention of a mall. "And a few bookstores, I think."

Miles looked up from the book, his interest piqued. "Is there now?"

"See, perking up already," Phoenix said with a grin. "You can buy some more paperweights to add to that obscene collection of yours."

"I don't think I care for the judgment in your tone, Wright."

"No judgment at all."

"Mm."

And they lapsed back into silence, interrupted only by the lulling, orchestral song playing from the radio and the brushing of paper against paper as Miles flipped pages. Eventually he gave up on reading, thinking on how to phrase his next sentence. "Were you… Are you still upset with me?"

Phoenix sucked in a breath, paused. Miles watched him carefully, watched the way his fingers tensed and relaxed around the steering wheel. "Not… I don't know. Why?"

"I'm just trying to sort this out. You don't normally plan 'romantic' vacations for no reason... I just don't want any undue...surprises."

"It's not like I'm trying to whisk you away to Narnia, Miles," Phoenix attempted to joke, but it fell flat with the pinprick of annoyance in his voice. He didn't like the probing in Miles' tone, didn't like how this felt like an interrogation. "Look, whatever you think this is about, it doesn't matter. Let's just enjoy the ride."

"Right." Miles said after a moment, narrowing his eyes. He crossed his legs and flipped his book back open. "Enjoy the ride."

* * *

Grizzly Café, true to its name, held a bit of a rough yet homey quality. It was the first place they stopped after checking into their cabin and deciding that a late lunch would take the edge off of whatever grouchiness they couldn't relinquish from the ride into town. The colors, harsh browns and foamy green, added to the effect along with the abstract landscape paintings that cluttered the walls. The air was abuzz with chatter from every inch of the room, and the scent of fish fry and pancakes met their nostrils. They were given a booth tucked in one of the café's corners, emphasizing their cramped feeling.

And quite the crowd, both men couldn't help but note. Friends and small families, yes, but mostly couples. Young couples. Young, rather affectionate couples. Couples that were practically hanging off of each other, practically attached through their intertwined fingers or roaming lips. Laughing far too loudly, talking even louder, and so obviously caught mid-honeymoon phase based on the sheer number of wedding rings that seemed to glint in the afternoon light. The neon pink banner hanging on one of the walls read, in puffy white letters, 'Lunchtime Lovebird Special, 2 for $12.'

Phoenix couldn't help but think this was all one cruel touch of irony.

Perhaps he was paying such close attention to the Valentine's Day-esque behavior, the wedding rings in his vicinity, because of the not-quite argument he and Miles had in the car. It was still fresh in both their minds, from what he could tell, because Miles had hardly said a word since they arrived and seemed even more put off by the stark shift in atmosphere. Phoenix did nothing but ignore the sea of rings and conspicuous PDA as best he could while he and Miles were seated.

Miles quickly busied himself with the menu, one elbow propped on the table and his knuckles pressed to his cheek as he lost himself in thought. He seemed far too focused to be thinking only of the menu options, and Phoenix felt a pang of guilt.

He hadn't meant to snap in the car. Or to say that their conversation didn't matter. Of course it mattered. That was the whole point, wasn't it, to talk about things. But before he could catch himself, the same pent up annoyance that he'd carried around all week had rushed back, and brushing Miles off was his first response. Couldn't he just plan a nice trip for the two of them without it having to mean he had an agenda?

_But you do have an agenda, idiot. That's why you're out here. That's why you got so defensive._

Phoenix sighed. This whole thing was a mess.

He watched Miles, softened a bit, and then reached for the hand the man had poised on his menu. Miles jumped at the sudden touch and pulled his hand back. "What?"

"Nothing, relax. Just figured. Well, everyone else is doing it," Phoenix said with a small laugh, nodding his head to the numerous tables and booths around the restaurant. Several couples, still smooching and cuddling away, locked in conversation.

Miles arched a brow. "We're not everyone else."

"We could at least lock pinkies, act like we're not two grumpy old men."

"God, you're odd."

"Well, you don't want me to lean over and start making out with you, do you? Try to one-up some of these young folk in the crowd." Phoenix's gaze fell on the table to their right, and he gave a devious grin. There was one couple huddled side-by-side in their booth, pressing slow, smacking kisses to each other's lips without a hint of modesty. They were oblivious to Phoenix and Miles' stares. "Like those two. They look happy."

"We aren't a pair of hormone-driven teenagers. And it is _not _a competition." Miles made a noise of disgust as the young man in the booth started nuzzling his partner's neck, causing her to giggle. "It's like watching a mating ritual."

"Someone sounds jealous," Phoenix teased, still holding out an expectant hand on the table's surface. It went ignored. As usual.

But it felt colder, somehow.

Miles refocused on his menu instead, taking no notice of the careful way Phoenix curled his fingers in his palm and leaned back in his chair. "_Someone_ would like to eat in peace without hearing people swap spit. Is this how couples act these days, by putting on unnecessary displays?"

"Never one for public displays, are you?"

Phoenix muttered it more to himself than to Miles—a mistake, he thought a second later, regretting the hint of complaint in his voice—but the Miles heard it all the same and watched as Phoenix's previous grin stretch into a thin line.

Miles was quiet for a moment. "Resorting to passive aggression now, are we?"

Phoenix kept his eyes trained on his menu, suddenly less hungry. "No."

Miles didn't respond.

Well this vacation was off to a great start.


End file.
